Of Chocolate and Motorcycles
by Chicapanzy
Summary: Alcohol has no affect on Vulcans; chocolate on the other hand is another story. Spock gets a crash course in hangovers after a party during shore leave on Earth. Pre-Kirk/Spock with slashy tidbits.
1. Hangover

Spock's head was splitting when he woke up. The light that shined into his room might as well have been sharp blades the way it stabbed at his aching head. The hand he raised to block out the sunlight did little to ease the pain as the sun insisted on being bright and shiny that morning. What he would have given for a dark stormy morning to wake up to.

The clock across the room from him flashed the current time. 4:28 Pacific Standard Time. So it wasn't morning, but was in fact late afternoon. That would explain why the sun was so bright.

The inside of Spock's mouth was extremely fuzzy in texture. His face scrunched up at the foul taste in the back of this throat. When he focused on the offending flavor, he found the answer to his unspoken question as to the root of his ill health.

Chocolate.

Through the fog of what seemed to be a hangover, he recounted his last memories. The Enterprise returned briefly to Earth. There was a gathering at the Academy. Uhura batted her eyes and hung loosely off of him. Kirk repeatedly swaggered over to him and unsuccessfully attempted to deliver pickup lines to him. He recalled their last interaction before the memories began to get murky:

"_Hey Spock, drink this!"_

_Spock looked down at the strange drink in Kirk's hand. "What is it?"_

"_It'sa milkshake! Taste it, it's delicious!"_

_The skeptical look on Spock's face persuaded him to explain further. "Look, it's harmless! There's no alcohol in it, I know how you don't care for it. It's just a frozen sweet Earth drink consisting of milk and ice cream! Go on, try it! I even gave you a straw!"_

"_Captain, I…"_

"_Jim," Kirk interrupted. "The name is Jim, Spock!"_

_Spock sighed. "Jim, I will not drink this 'milkshake' as you call it."_

"_Then I'm not leaving."_

"_Jim…"_

"_No! I'm not leaving until you drink it!"_

_They engaged in a staring contest before Spock took the drink from his hand. In his haste to be rid of the irritatingly drunk man that he drank the entire thing without asking any further questions as to its ingredients. It was indeed a very delicious and enjoyable drink, though colder than he would have preferred. A shooting pain seared between his eyes from the intense coldness of the drink._

_Kirk, like anyone else would have, laughed at Spock's pain. He put a hand on his back and said, "Spock man, you're not supposed to down a milkshake! You're supposed to sip it! That's why I gave you the straw!"_

_The pain soon faded from Spock's skull, but he found that he was very lightheaded. He blinked rapidly and then looked at the grinning blonde man next to him. Slowly a smile curled on his lips, much to Kirk's surprise._

"_That drink…a milkshake you called it?" Kirk nodded. "Where do I obtain another like it?"_

_Kirk directed Spock to a table that had a blender, several gallons of various ice cream flavors, and milk cartons on top of it and winked at the pretty girl behind it. "Lola! Fix Mr. Spock here another milkshake like the one you just fixed!"_

_The busty blonde nodded and winked back at Kirk before preparing another milkshake for the Vulcan. Kirk grabbed a blue straw and stuck it into the glass as he handed it to Spock. Giving another lightheaded smile, Spock proceeded to sip one of many chocolate milkshakes._

Things after that point got extremely fuzzy and trying to think about it made his head hurt even more. He pressed the heel of his palms on his temples to try and ease the pain. As he did so, he noticed that the ends of his bangs were not as tidy as they were that night. Vulcan hair didn't grow that fast overnight – how long had he been out for?

He threw back the rumpled covers of his bed and staggered across the room to look in the mirror. The sight before him was alarming. Not only was his hair noticeably longer than it was before, but his face was also covered in a fine crop of stubbly facial hair. His eyes were green rimmed and his skin was even paler than usual. If it weren't for his memory of the party, he'd have thought he had come down with an illness.

When he looked down he saw that he was still wearing the same uniform from that night. It was now extremely wrinkled and clung to him in spots where his body had excreted sweat in his sleep.

He placed a hand on his head and swayed in place. Apparently he was still feeling the effects of the chocolate in his system. Judging by the amount of cocoa in each drink, the drink must have been made with dark chocolate. If he were an Earth canine, he probably would have killed himself fifty times over.

'Wait,' he thought to himself through the fog. 'My room at the Academy does not have a mirror.'

He looked around him and observed his surroundings. The room he stood in was indeed not the room he was staying in at the Academy. In fact, it didn't look like any of the rooms in the Academy. The walls were painted a soft eggshell color, the bed he had been sleeping on had floral printed bed sheets, and the carpet beneath his feet was a rich brown. The dresser which the mirror was attached to was made of mahogany and decorated with framed photographs of a woman and two young boys.

Spock picked up one of the pictures that was more recent and immediately recognized Jim Kirk standing with his arm around his mother. Eyes wide, Spock barely managed to put the picture back on the dresser without dropping it. His mind whirled as he tried to fathom his situation.

What was he doing in Kirk's mother's house?!?

It was the note on the nightstand closest to the door that held the answers for the confused Vulcan. He stumbled over to it, somehow avoiding tripping over his own two feet which now seemed ridiculously large, and picked it up. In surprisingly neat handwriting, it read:

_Hey Spock,_

_By the time you read this, you'll probably have been out for a few days. I guess I should have looked up the fact that chocolate has an intoxicating effect on Vulcans before the party._

_Still, it was a blast watching you let loose for once. Now I know if I want you to get the redwood dislodged from your ass I just need to slip a little chocolate into your diet. I've made sure to note that in my private logs, though I doubt you need to know that._

_Anyway, since your blackout from the chocolate overdose was partially my fault, I couldn't just throw you in your room at the Academy and leave you there for the rest of shore leave so I brought you to my mom's home in Iowa. Let me tell you, transporting a 'drunk' Vulcan on my motorcycle is no easy task._

_Speaking of which, if when you wake up I'm not in the house and you need to clear your head, I'm leaving the keys to my motorcycle in the draw of this nightstand. If you need a change of clothes, some of my old clothes are in the dresser. You're not too much taller than me so they should fit well enough._

_Hope you wake up soon; you wouldn't want to miss the entire shore leave because you're hung-over!_

_-Jim_

Spock's eyes closed in silent frustration. He wanted to kick himself for his lack of judgment during the party, but more than that he wanted to pummel Kirk for badgering him about drinking the chocolatey death trap in the first place. There was no helping it though; he was the one who chose to consume the drink in the end and it was truly himself he had to blame, not Kirk. Kirk had at least been kind enough to keep him in a place where he could be watched over. With as much chocolate as he had consumed, it was a wonder he hadn't shocked his system.

His head continued to swirl as he stood. Deciding that sitting back down on the bed was a better choice, he lowered himself down onto the bed. He covered his eyes with his hand and enjoyed the slight ease in dizziness and pain. It was hard to get his brain to function when it felt like several ice picks had been imbedded in his skull. If this was what it was like for humans to have a hangover, it was increasingly illogical how often they desired to consume enough alcohol to bring one on.

The complexities of being human once again escaped him.

He reread the letter and let the words on the thin white paper soak into his brain through the haze. Whether it was the curiosity of his human side leaking through the cracks or the logic of his Vulcan side being weakened Spock was unsure, but something about riding on Kirk's motorcycle seemed like a good idea. Kirk had gone on and on about how exhilarating riding on it was and how all the cares that weighed him down flew behind him in the dust his bike kicked up. Spock had a chance to experience that first hand and become that much closer to understanding the human condition and, inevitably, his captain.

Rising from the bed, Spock moved to the dresser and pulled out a white T-shirt, a pair of jeans, and a pair of socks. When he saw the folded white briefs, he realized he was in quite a pickle. On the one hand, he couldn't just put on clothes without underwear, but on the other hand, he'd be putting on his captain's underwear, which just seemed, well, weird.

He took a deep breath and grabbed a pair of the white underwear. Either choice he made would seem wholly inappropriate, but considering everything he was putting on was Kirk's, it didn't really make much difference. He might as well be comfortable if he had to wear clothes that weren't his.

Clothes in hand, he walked down the hall and entered the bathroom. He felt much like a banana as he proceeded to peel the sticky clothing off of his body before stepping into the hot water that spewed from the shower head. The shower was so wonderful Spock almost didn't get out. His shower was overly long by his standards, but with no one around to witness it, it'd be his little secret.

All clean, he came out of the shower, dried himself off and dressed himself in the clothes he found. He took his towel and wiped off the steamed up mirror to gaze at his reflection once more. With some of the fog clearing from his mind, he was able to truly examine his current state.

Aside from the pointed ears and his upward slanted eyebrows, Spock looked more human now than he ever had. Though he felt uncomfortable in such a state of disarray, he could see that there was something somewhat attractive about his appearance. A hidden facet of his personality seemed as though it was trying to make its way out of him through the long uneven bangs and the prickly hair on his face.

Shrugging with his eyebrows, he went back to the room, sat down on the bed, and put his boots on over his now clean feet. Once both boots were on his feet he rose from the bed and began walking out of the room. Before he could leave, a jacket in the open closet caught his eye. He walked over to the closet and pulled the jacket out. It was a black leather coat similar to what he had seen Kirk wear on occasion. Upon closer inspection he found it was in fact the leather coat Kirk was so fond of.

Knowing the jacket served as a means of protection from the wind during high speed travel, he put the jacket on and zipped it up carefully. The man staring back at him in the mirror across from him looked nothing like him as he knew himself, but was still rather striking. Before he knew it he found himself turning in the mirror, admiring his appearance. Mid pose, he caught himself and slapped his arms back to his side.

Shaking his head violently, he grabbed the keys in the night stand and made his way down the stairs and out the door. In the back of his mind he knew he needed a helmet for additional protection, but also knew that the reckless young captain would have no such thing handy. Sitting in the driveway of the Iowan farm house was Kirk prized motorcycle, lonely and unoccupied. Spock hopped onto the bike, put the keys in the ignition and turned the key.

The roar of a lion was not nearly as magnificent as the sound of the bike's engine as it came to life. Spock's heart skipped a beat. He had never ridden such a machine before and it was already proving to be a unique experience. Taking a deep breath, he backed the bike out of the driveway and sped off.

His speed was cautious at first. There were no speed limit signs anywhere since he was deep in the countryside, but that didn't mean he could simply zoom off to his death minutes after beginning his first drive. The more distance he put behind him, the more courage he gathered. The needle on the speedometer slowly cranked higher and higher as he gained speed.

His heart raced as the countryside blurred past him. The wind whipped his short hair up and behind him. His eyes became teary from the cold evening air that blew mercilessly into his face. As he tore down the dusty country roads, he felt like he was flying through the sky like a bird.

On the horizon the bright sun that had brought him agony not long ago now set the sky afire with bright oranges, hot pinks, and deep purples. The few wisps of clouds that were scattered in the dusk sky added even more color to the sky above him. This was nature at its best; this was planet Earth.

At some point Spock managed to change his direction back toward the farm house. From the look of the sky, Kirk would surely be back sometime soon if he wasn't already. If Spock was missing by the time Kirk returned to the room, it was likely Kirk would become worried. Familiar scenery appeared before him as he made his way back. The sky was growing darker and darker. The hints of stars began to twinkle above him. He had to hurry.

By the time he returned to farm house the stars were dotting the sky above him at an alarming rate. The junky truck Kirk's mother insisted on driving was in the driveway when he slowed to a stop. He had been gone too long.

The front door opened and a warm light streamed out into the darkness. Standing in the doorway was Kirk, arms crossed and a smirk on his face.

The sight of him leaning against the doorway with his legs crossed was strangely comforting to Spock. It felt as if coming back to him in such a manner was a normal everyday occurrence he had yet had the pleasure of enjoying. Spock tried to push this thought out of his mind as he dismounted the motorcycle, but the chocolate that still lingered in his system and mixed with the adrenaline from the ride he just returned from made it difficult.

"Have a good ride?" Kirk asked nonchalantly.

Spock straightened out the jacket he wore and casually replied, "Yes, I did. I found it to be quite tranquil. I feel much more at ease after driving through the countryside and observing the state you once lived in."

"Beautiful isn't it?" Kirk asked with a smile. "One of my favorite things to do when I come home is ride out on the road at sunset. Did it clear out some of the four day old smog from your mind?"

The slanted eyebrows on Spock's face touched his hairline. "I was unconscious for four days?"

Nodding, Kirk replied, "Yeah. Well, mostly. You woke up for just long enough to go to the bathroom or drink some water when I brought it."

He chuckled. "No surprise that you had no appetite at all."

Spock's eyes fell to the ground. He remembered absolutely nothing about the time he was unconscious, a feeling that disturbed him greatly. Kirk saw the look on his face and gave the Vulcan another smile. Clomping down the steps, he took Spock's wrist and placed it onto his face. Spock looked at Kirk with wide eyes, unsure as to why he had done this until he felt the flood of memories from the past few days.

Everything he had missed from the last four days, including his actions at the party, bombarded his brain.

When the memories finished their playback before his eyes, he removed his shaking hand from Kirk's face. Green from the neck up, Spock said in a tiny voice, "I am extremely sorry for my behavior Captain."

"Don't 'Captain' me," Kirk said crossing his arms, this time out of irritation instead of playfulness. "You're staying in my mother's home on shore leave; you call me 'Jim' here, not 'Captain'."

"Jim," Spock said, obediently using Kirk's first name, "regardless of my unanticipated heavy consumption of chocolate laced frozen dairy drinks, there is no excuse for the way I acted while under the influence. Please tell Lieutenant Uhura…"

"…don't worry about her," Kirk cut Spock off. "When I told her you had drank several chocolate milkshakes she forgave you instantly. Me on the other hand, I'm lucky my head is still attached. It's not my fault I didn't know what chocolate does to Vulcans."

"Even so, I did not intend to…"

"…kiss me and profess your deep rooted lustful love for me?" he laughed. "Just chalk it up to a bad experience Spock. It happens to the best of us when we drink too much."

Kirk was playing the situation off like it was nothing, but Spock was a good enough reader of emotion and body language to tell he was lying. What he wanted to say was he hadn't intended to reveal his feelings for the young captain in such an ill-mannered way, but something told him this was not a good time to discuss such things. However, he couldn't just leave Kirk on his current train of thought.

Straightening up, he looked Kirk dead in the eyes and said, "What with my limited experience with becoming heavily intoxicated, it appears to me as though the usual limits on one's actions are completely removed, allowing one to act out their true desires without conceiving any potential consequences."

Kirk gave a wide eyed stare to the Vulcan before him, who merely smirked. "Judging by the time, would it be safe to assume that your mother is preparing dinner for the three of us?"

"Oh, yeah," Kirk said as he blinked his shock away. "She's got a big salad prepared full of vegetables from her garden. It's going to be pretty tasty."

"Then we should go inside," Spock said.

He walked past Kirk and up the stairs into the house. Kirk smirked as he watched the Vulcan walking in his clothes. They didn't really suit him, but damn if he didn't look good in them. As he walked into the house himself and closed the door, he wondered if his ass looked as good in those jeans as Spock's did.


	2. Party

Spock stayed rooted to his seat before the lovely blonde woman who prepared him his chocolate milk shakes. Kirk watched in smug amazement as Spock's careful sipping of the milkshakes devolved into greedy gulps. His pace was slowed as he repeatedly clutched at his forehead with a pained grimace on his face. For a man who lived his life based solely on logic, it was amusing to watch him repeat the same mistake over and over.

The effect that the milkshakes had on Spock was incredible. With each milkshake the Vulcan's stiff posture melted away like ice in front of a fire, leaving a loose and limber Vulcan in its wake. His shoulders, which were usually square, were slumped forward and shook with the laughter that came seemingly from nowhere. On his normally deadpan face was a large smile that revealed two rows of shimmering white teeth. The corners of his eyes crinkled from his child-like laughter.

The sound of Spock laughing was so rare and contagious that Kirk found himself laughing with him. "Dammit Spock, would ya quit laughing like that?" he managed to say before his laughter became out of hand.

The Vulcan shook his head and said, "I, I cannot help it Jim! It is all so very funny!"

"What is?" Kirk chuckled.

"You! Me! Us! Everyone! It is all so very amusing!" Spock sat back in his chair and looked at Kirk with surprisingly bright eyes. "To think that just a few months ago, hardly any of our paths even came close to crossing, and now we are all on the same ship! It is highly amusing!"

Kirk blinked amidst his waning laughter. Apparently there was a joke laced into Spock's comment that Kirk didn't get, which was odd because Kirk was pretty good on picking up on jokes when he was getting drunk. But before he could ask what the joke was Spock began talking again.

"It is only logical that I be on the Enterprise with my intellect and logical thinking, but then you came aboard, the attractive woman's man who seems dumb as a brick but is actually quite brilliant. That is, you are brilliant when you are not jumping into danger like a moron!"

Kirk held his tongue on that comment, allowing the Vulcan to continue chattering. "Then there is Doctor McCoy, the ill-tempered 'sourpuss' as you humans call him!" Spock arched his back and frowned heavily. "'Dammit Jim, I'm a doctor, not a ray of sunshine!'" The frown dissolved back into a grin as Spock leaned back and laughed loudly. Were Kirk not there to hold him, he would have fallen off his stool.

"Easy there Spock," Kirk said, amused despite the Vulcan's increasingly sloppy behavior.

Spock simply giggled (yes, giggled) and continued. "Then we have Mr. Sulu, the fantastical fencer who cannot seem to remember to 'take the parking brake off' before zipping off to warp and his recent acquaintance Ensign Chekov, who is a genius at the tender age of 'sewenteen'." Spock made sure to mimic Chekov's tone of voice and inability to pronounce Vs. Laughing, he added, "I suppose his level of intellect is an accomplishment if you are human, but have you seen the curls on his head? How silly!"

The Vulcan was now laughing so hard he snorted. As soon as he heard the sound escape his nose, he covered his face and looked at Kirk with the widest eyes Kirk had ever seen. Spock fanned his face to stop laughing long enough to speak.

"Who else is there? Oh, oh! Scotty!" Spock said, jabbing a slender finger at Kirk's face. "Ah Scotty, another example of a brilliant mind stuck in a crazy man!" Spock proceeded to do probably the worst Scottish accent Kirk had ever heard while waving his arms about around his head. "'Ah cannae do tha' Cap'tin! Tha' ship is gonna blow!"

Raising an amused eyebrow at Spock, Kirk said, "You do realize that your accent sounds more Irish than Scottish, right?"

Spock waved Kirk's comment away and said, "I am aware of their differences Jim, but in my current state the two accents sound the same to me!"

Knowing where this was going, Kirk asked, "And Uhura?"

"Ooooooh," Spock breathed with his mouth wide open and his shoulders rolled back. "Nyota…she is truly a fine specimen of human femininity if ever I saw it! I would take great pleasure learning more about human sexuality with her!"

Kirk laughed as Spock clapped a hand on his shoulder and chuckled. Unexpectedly, he found that hearing Spock openly admit his attraction to Uhura made his heart hurt. Ignoring the feeling in his chest, he decided the best thing to do to get away would be to have Lola serve him another milkshake to distract him.

"Lola, I dare say you're letting his cup get far too low! Whirl him up another milkshake, on me!"

Spock grinned at Kirk and said, "You are a very kind man Jimmy."

Kirk's heart leapt in his throat at the sound of Spock calling him, of all things, Jimmy. With a goofy smile, he said, "Well my friend, as Captain, I need to go and mingle with my people! Can't stay holed up under my First Officer when there's so many lovely ladies to inspect! Enjoy your milkshakes!"

With a hearty clap on Spock's back, Kirk began to walk away. Clutching onto the bar, Spock leaned back on his chair and watched Kirk walk away. In his Scot-Irish accent, he said, "If ye see Lieutenant Uhura, tell her tha' I love herrr vageen!"

The blonde man stopped in his tracks when he heard what Spock said, sadly loud enough for multiple people to hear and laugh about, and chuckled to himself, "Her 'vageen'?!? Jesus…"

He mixed and mingled just as he intended to for about an hour before his friend McCoy came up to him. Luckily Kirk had decided to tone down his drinking a bit, but he was still quite sloshed. "Hey, Bones!" he cried happily at the sight of his friend.

Unfortunately, his friend didn't greet him as enthusiastically. "Jim, what the hell did ya let Spock drink chocolate milkshakes for?!?"

Kirk gave McCoy an odd look. "What, it's not like I spiked them or anything!"

"Ya didn't have to!" As McCoy began to rant, Kirk could tell McCoy had also been drinking. "Do you have any idea what chocolate does to a Vulcan?!?"

"Loosens them up from what I can tell," Kirk answered. "Think we can slip some chocolate into his diet a bit more? It seems to do better for him than it does for some of our PMSing female officers…"

"Dammit Jim!" McCoy shouted, grasping Kirk's shoulders and shaking him. If it weren't for the heavy stench of bourbon on his breath, Kirk would think McCoy was totally sober. "Chocolate acts the same way for Vulcans as alcohol does for us! Those chocolate milkshakes were made with dark chocolate, which means one of those milkshakes is the equivalent of either you or me drinking a couple glasses of Romulan ale! Do you have any idea how many milkshakes he's had?!?"

Kirk attempted to look over the crowd of people so he could try and see how many empty glasses there were. McCoy wasn't interested in Kirk actually counting the cups; shaking Kirk again, he answered his own question. "TWELVE! Spock has had TWELVE dark chocolate milkshakes!"

Mouth hanging open like a fish out of water, Kirk asked, "And he's still alive?"

"Not for long," McCoy growled. "We gotta get him out of here and treat him before he turns into a Vulcan projectile vomit machine!"

Gulping, Kirk made his way over to Spock with McCoy in tow. The intoxicated Vulcan made it very easy for them to find him, as he had a crowd around him watching as he stood on the very same bar he was drinking at. His shirts were off and swinging over his head as he thrust his hips to the music that played. Below him, Uhura tried desperately to get him down. She eyed Kirk as he approached, who guiltily looked down from her accusing gaze.

Kirk raised his hands up and yelled, "Spock! Get down from there!"

Spock looked down at Kirk and smiled sloppily. "Jimmy! Come up here and dance with me!"

"No!" Kirk said, trying not to be so amused by how "drunk" Spock was. "You come down here right now! That's an order!"

Spock kneeled down, easily picked Kirk up, and placed him onto the bar with him. Even drunk Spock was strong enough to move Kirk around like a simple bag of flour. Staring at Kirk, he waggled a finger at him and tsked. "I thought we were off duty Jimmy. If I cannot call you 'Captain' then you cannot give me orders!"

Scorching hot, green flushed arms snaked around Kirk's neck as Spock smiled devilishly at him. "However, if you ordered me to have relations with you right here in front of everyone, I would be more than happy to obey…."

Kirk's face was so red it looked like a stop sign. He stuttered, "S-Spock! Wh-what's gotten into you?!? You can't just-just say things like that, even if you _are _drunk!"

"Oh but 'Captain'," he said in a sultry voice, "I thought you liked it when your romantic interests are forward? You cannot tell me you do not desire me sexually. I have seen you look at me so intently when you think I am not looking. I have seen how you bite your bottom lip in the same way you do when you see an attractive female. Whatever lust you have for me, I reciprocate fully."

"Spock, this is not the time or place to talk about this!" Kirk was now frantic. Spock was dead on about how Kirk felt, but he didn't want that revealed openly before so many people, especially in front of Uhura, who was watching them both like a hawk. A noticeably disgusted and infuriated hawk ready to swoop in for the kill.

"Alright, I will avoid discussing it further at this time," Spock said, much to Kirk's relief. Kirk's relief was short lived though, because Spock grabbed two handfuls of Kirk's shirt and pulled him forward. Spock feverishly hot lips pressed against his in a forceful kiss. The bittersweet taste of dark chocolate ice cream set off little explosions on Kirk's tongue as Spock demonstrated that Vulcans were skilled in more than just science.

The two were putting on one hell of a show for the spectators below them, who all hooted, hollered, and whistled drunkenly at the sight. Kirk wanted to pull away in disgust to save face, but there was no disgust in him to tap into. He couldn't even pull away as an act of decency because he was both completely enraptured by the kiss and too drunk to want to pull away anyway. A semi-reluctant captive in the Vulcan's death grip on his shirt, he had no other choice but to stay in place and return the kiss as a courtesy. If only he were forced to do such things on a regular basis.

When Spock released Kirk's lips, Kirk had to gasp for air as though he had been drowning in a river. His head buzzed loudly from the blood that somehow managed to pump furiously into both his head and between his legs. Beneath them, Uhura pushed through the crowd to get away from the two, but neither of them noticed her or cared that she was leaving. With an exhausted smile, Spock then proceeded to pass out. Kirk caught Spock easily and looked down at McCoy, who reached out for Spock's legs and helped Kirk get him down.

After Kirk climbed down, he said, "We gotta get him to the Academy sick bay and fast!"

Feet firmly on the ground, Kirk scooped the unconscious Vulcan up in his arms. Ignoring the exclamations of the crowd around him, he carried Spock out of the dance hall and down the empty Academy corridors, McCoy close on his heels.

The two of them walked at a fast pace to the sick bay. McCoy was mercifully silent, so the only sound that was heard was that of their boots clicking on the floor beneath them echoed through the halls. As soon as they entered the sick bay, he went into doctor mode.

"Put him on that bed over there," McCoy pointed as he walked off to the cabinet to grab a Feinberger to evaluate the unconscious Vulcan. Kirk took large strides toward the medical bed and carefully laid Spock onto it. His skin was so green it glowed against the stark white sheets beneath him.

McCoy returned with the Feinburger and a few other medical supplies. Putting the instruments aside, he hooked Spock up to the monitor above him and turned the monitor on. Most of his vitals were in the green, but his breaths per minute were dangerously low and his body temperature, which was far too high even for a Vulcan, was beginning to plummet. McCoy cursed loudly and moved the Feinburger over Spock's body.

Looking down at the tricorder in his hands, he shook his head gravely. "There's enough chocolate in his system to make a candy bar the size of his forearm! Christ Jim, were you trying to kill him?!?"

"Of _course_ not!" Kirk shouted. "He doesn't come with a manual so how was I supposed to know too much chocolate would make him sick?!?"

"Common sense Jim, that's how," McCoy spat. "Even if Vulcans didn't react to chocolate this way, twelve chocolate milkshakes would make _anyone_ sick!"

"It's not like I _made_ him drink twelve milkshakes; I only asked him to try some of one! _He_ was the one that took it out of my hand and downed the whole thing, and _he_ was the one who asked for more! I never would have let him do that to himself if I had known he would get this sick!"

"You should have kept an eye on him the moment you realized he wasn't acting like himself!" McCoy growled. "How many milkshakes did he have before you left him unattended?"

Kirk took a moment to think, trying to picture the number of empty glasses that were on the bar before he left. As if it would help, he squinted in concentration and earned an eye roll from McCoy. "I think…" he pondered. "I think he drank three? Yeah…he was on his fourth when I left."

"How long were you gone?"

"Like an hour or so I guess."

"An hour?!?" McCoy looked incredulous. "How long were you with him before you left his side?!?"

Kirk shrugged. "Like half an hour or so?"

McCoy's jaw dropped. "You mean to tell me he drank twelve milkshakes in an hour and a half?!?" He looked in awe at his nodding friend. Shaking his head, he looked back down at the tricorder and said, "No wonder he's so sick! He'll be lucky if he makes it through the night!"

Spock began to stir on the medical bed. On the monitor his heart rate began to increase and his skin began to pale. McCoy's head snapped up at Kirk. "Jim! Grab a trash can! NOW!"

Kirk hurriedly found a trash can, one which had only a liner in it, and brought it back over to McCoy. McCoy moved to the opposite side of Spock and rolled him on his side. Kirk positioned the trash can high enough to reach Spock's mouth and not a moment too soon. As soon as the trash can was placed in front of Spock's face, the entire contents of the Vulcan's stomach came shooting out of his mouth in to the trash can. Kirk was very grateful he found a deep trash can.

The poor Vulcan wretched on and on for several minutes before his body allowed him to stop. The room had a foul smell of bile and chocolate that made both Kirk and McCoy vow to swear off chocolate for a while. McCoy was left to hold Spock as his formerly rigid body went limp while Kirk removed the bag from the can and disposed of it in the hazardous waste shoot.

When Kirk turned back to McCoy and Spock, McCoy was jabbing a loaded hypo into the Vulcan's neck. "Whoa, whoa, whoa," Kirk said as he stopped in his tracks. Seeing McCoy with hypos always put him on edge. "What'd you jab into his neck?"

"A detox hypo," McCoy answered. "It'll take a while to go into effect, but it's the only thing I can give him right now. You'll have to take him to his room and monitor him until he comes out of it."

"Are you serious?" Kirk asked. "I gotta go home tomorrow! How the hell am I gonna get there if I gotta watch _him??!_"

McCoy glared at Kirk. "This mess is your fault! Spock wouldn't be sick as a dog right now if you hadn't made him drink a chocolate milkshake so you need to take responsibility for it! Besides, I got plans of my own and if anyone found out he was in this condition he'd be in trouble for misconduct! Do you really want that on your conscience?!?"

Kirk bowed his head guiltily and shook it. "Well then," McCoy continued, "you'll just have to take him with you to your mother's house! Have the Transporter Team beam you to the Iowa location at Riverside and ride with him on your motorcycle!"

"Do you have any idea how long a trip that will be with a sick Vulcan riding on the back of my motorcycle?!?"

"Stop me when I should care," McCoy grumbled as he put his instruments away. "Look, just make sure Spock's taken care of and I'll make sure your ass stays out of the fire."

Kirk tried to out-glare McCoy but found that McCoy had a lot more venom in his blood than he did. Backing down, he watched as McCoy unhooked Spock from the monitor. McCoy picked up the inside out shirts and said, "Pick him up. We gotta walk him to his room."

"_Jim? Are you alright?"_

Kirk snapped out of his trance and found himself back in the dining room of his mother's house in Iowa. His plate was still only half full and the eyes of both his mother and his First Officer were upon him. His mother gave him a worried look but Spock gave him a look of knowing. Spock knew exactly why Kirk had been spaced out. It wasn't uncommon for events to be revisited even after a mind meld had taken place, and given the events that led them both to that moment it was understandable why Kirk was mulling over the memories.

"Yeah, sorry, just have something on my mind is all."

"Wanna talk about it?" Winona Kirk asked, her voice dripping with concern.

"Nah, I'm fine," he said as he scrapped his chair back and picked up his plate. "I'm not too hungry right now mom, so I'm just gonna cover this up and eat it later, okay?"

Without waiting for a confirmation from his mother, Kirk left the dining room and walked into the kitchen. "He never leaves a meal unfinished unless something's bothering him," Winona said out loud. She looked at Spock and asked, "Did something happen?"

Finishing his plate and standing up, he said, "More than you know," and went to put his plate in the sink.


End file.
